


Drabble Collection 03

by triste



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Genderswap, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 06:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I can't believe you actually enjoy this."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drabble Collection 03

**[Aomine/Kuroko, fetishes]**

The things with fetishes, Aomine has learned, is that most of them tend to be weird, but Kuroko’s is especially so. It’s not creepy or freakish, just... strange. Aomine doesn’t understand it himself, but for some reason, Kuroko really likes it when he gets all gross and sweaty.

When Aomine attempts to figure out exactly what Kuroko finds so appealing about it, by sniffing his armpits, he fails miserably, because to him, he simply smells. It’s not a good smell either, at least in his opinion, but it’s nothing that a shower and a bit of deodorant won’t fix.

But Kuroko looks like he’s been betrayed when Aomine announces that he’s going to get cleaned up, like he’s been denied a delicious treat, and Aomine has always been a soft touch for him, so he sighs and opens his arms.

“Come here, Tetsu.”

Kuroko’s face brightens, and he moves at a speed that takes Aomine completely by surprise, slamming into him with the strength of a rugby player and forcing a grunt out of his lungs as their bodies collide. Kuroko plasters himself all over Aomine’s chest, rubbing his cheek against it and closing his eyes, inhaling deeply, blissfully.

“I can’t believe you actually enjoy this,” Aomine mutters, because it’s sort of embarrassing, in a way, to be on the receiving end of someone else’s obsession.

“I love it,” Kuroko breathes, and it must be the truth, judging by his orgasmic expression and the way he sounds as if he’s never smelled anything better in his life. “Your scent is so amazing.”

“You think?”

Kuroko nods, moaning a little, and Aomine’s cock immediately reacts to the noises he’s making.

“Damn it, Tetsu, don’t do that.”

Kuroko ignores him, tongue wet and wicked as he licks the hollow of Aomine’s throat. “But you taste so...” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to his Adam’s apple, sucking on it briefly. “So...” He gives up trying to find the words, and settles for finishing his sentence with a contented, “Mm.”

He wriggles in Aomine’s embrace insistently, so Aomine gives him what he wants and lifts him up. Kuroko’s legs lock into place around his waist, and he nuzzles his cheek against Aomine’s neck, panting in excitement.

“Does all sweat make you go this crazy?” Aomine asks, tilting his head to the side so Kuroko can reach more of his bare skin.

“No,” Kuroko says, breathless, lips pausing at his pulse point. “Just yours.”

It’s not the only thing that makes him crazy, because his hands are as eager as his mouth as he runs them over Aomine’s body, squeezing the muscles in his arms appreciatively, digging his fingers into them. 

Sliding out of Aomine’s embrace, he falls to his knees, lifting Aomine’s shirt up just enough so he can drag the flat of his tongue over his abs, hooking his thumbs into Aomine’s shorts and pulling them away to expose his cock.

“God,” he sighs, “you have the most incredible body.”

Aomine preens under the praise, and it gets even better when Kuroko buries his face in his crotch, because if there’s anything he likes more than breathing in Aomine’s scent, it’s sucking Aomine’s cock. It’s an arrangement that works out great for both of them, Aomine thinks, because there’s nothing better than getting a blowjob from someone who practically worships the ground you walk on (and people wonder why his ego is so over inflated).

Too far gone to tease, Kuroko wets his lips, curling them over his teeth, and swallows Aomine down, one hand holding Aomine’s left hip, the other he slides between his own legs, rubbing himself through his shorts. Aomine presses forward, sliding in deeper, and Kuroko takes all of him, greedy and impatient, until his nose nudges the hair at the base of Aomine’s cock, until his chin touches Aomine’s balls.

“Fuck,” Aomine grunts, fisting his fingers into Kuroko’s hair.

Kuroko moans around his dick in agreement, and Aomine hisses at the vibrations it causes. 

He’s getting way too good at this, and Aomine loves, because, hell, who wouldn’t enjoy being deep throated with such skill and enthusiasm, but he also kind of hates it, because the better Kuroko becomes at sucking him off, the quicker he can bring Aomine to orgasm.

Right now, however, it’s difficult for him to give a damn, and besides, he’s far more interested in fucking Kuroko’s mouth, shoving his cock harder into it until he comes down the back of his throat. Kuroko sucks, swallows and slides his lips off with a gasp as Aomine sinks to the floor beside him to catch his breath, watching as Kuroko brings himself off.

He’s definitely going to need a shower after this, and so is Kuroko, who doesn’t even have to steal Aomine’s used towel today to take home and do dirty things with, because after a blowjob like that, he’s earned the right for Aomine to give it to him without even having to ask for it.

~~  
 **[Kuroko/fem!Aomine, fail confessions]**

Now that they’re at different schools, Aomine actually has to learn stuff these days. She can’t just copy Kuroko’s work anymore, and since Momoi (who apparently needs to study on her own for finals, which means she’s not willing to put up with being asked questions like “when the hell did we learn this?”) has abandoned her, the task of tutoring has fallen to Kuroko. He owes Aomine anyway for teaching him how to shoot, not that he’s complaining about it.

It’s what she likes about him, that he isn’t constantly nagging the way Momoi would be, but Kuroko has a different way of getting her to do things, by looking at her with those eyes that make her feel like scum on earth, and because she can’t stand the idea of disappointing him, she tries to pay attention to what he’s explaining, even if most of it ends up going in through one ear and out of the other.

It’s not that Kuroko is a bad teacher. He’s patient and thorough, and he makes things clear and easy to understand, but he doesn’t have the power to turn Aomine’s least favourite subjects (which are all of them, pretty much) into ones that she’ll suddenly find interesting and exciting. 

They start with History (which is boring), move onto Math (which is just a bunch of random numbers and funny symbols), switch to Science (which is even duller than remembering dates and famous figures from the past, because Aomine doesn’t get to set fire to anything or blow shit up) and then Literature (which is a little bit better, because she can simply BS her way through the exam and still get a relatively decent mark).

“Shall we take a break?” Kuroko suggests, glancing at the clock. 

Aomine sighs in relief, tossing her pen onto the table and stretching her arms up above her head. She’s been sitting still for almost four hours straight, and the urge to move around (preferably on a basketball court), and do something that isn’t poring over a textbook is almost overwhelming.

Because it’s raining outside, but also because they have other subjects to get through first, she has to settle for heading downstairs to the kitchen. She brings back snacks and drinks, which Kuroko, as always, politely declines, because he’s a strange person who doesn’t need regular nourishment like the rest of the human race. 

While Aomine eats, he makes notes (something Aomine herself should have done months ago, in class, instead of sleeping at her desk) in neat and tidy handwriting, highlighting and underlining the important parts and adding useful hints to help her with the tests.

It brings Aomine to the realisation that they’re in her room, alone together, and that they have the whole house to themselves, because her parents are out at work. It’s not like Kuroko hasn’t been in her room before, but then again, they also weren’t dating in those days, when they were in middle school. 

She still feels kind of weird about it sometimes, like she’s expecting him to turn around and tell her that he’s made a mistake, that he’s changed his mind, that he doesn’t really want to go out with her at all, because he can do so much better for himself.

It worries her more than she’ll admit, which is why she tries to sound casual, because the last thing she wants to come across as is needy and clingy.

“Are you sure you’re really okay with someone like me?”

Kuroko looks up from his notes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

It‘s annoying, the way he answers her question with one of his own, and it doesn’t tell Aomine what she needs to know.

There’s a part of her that’s always wondered why he chose her over everyone else, why he didn’t pick Momoi, who makes her affection for Kuroko much more obvious than Aomine ever could. 

She wonders what Kuroko could possibly find so appealing about her, apart from her basketball skills, because she’s not like other girls. She’s not small or cute or anything. Kuroko fits the description better than she does, and he’s a guy (not that he’d appreciate her saying it, but still). 

Some people even assume they’re a same sex couple when they’re out together, at least until they notice Aomine’s breasts, which she finds sort of hilarious, but also sort of irritating.

Kuroko behaves differently with Momoi, treating her like the perfect gentleman, always telling her what she wants to hear, but not so with Aomine, who tends to get him at his most honest, when he’s being unfailingly blunt and upfront.

“Well,” Aomine says, shrugging, “it’s not as if Satsuki has suddenly stopped liking you just because we’re going out.”

“Maybe so,” Kuroko replies, “but I happen to be a strong believer in monogamy. It means only being with one person at a time,” he adds upon seeing Aomine’s blank expression. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have spent the past four years trying to avoid being molested by Kise-kun.”

Aomine can’t help giving a snort of amusement, but even that makes her different from most other typical females, Momoi included, who doesn’t laugh through her nose the way Aomine does, but with a feminine little giggle, hiding her mouth behind her hand and pretending to be coy and embarrassed.

Aomine tried it once, doing a laugh that’s supposed to sound like tinkling bells in a gentle summer breeze, or some such crap, and immediately clapped a hand to her face in horror at the way it came out, so she doubts she’ll be making any future attempts.

It could be worse, Aomine tells herself, because even though her laugh isn’t terribly dignified or ladylike, at least it doesn’t resemble the braying of a donkey, and anyway, it might cause her to sound like a pig, but then again, she eats like one too (not to mention, she snores like one), so she supposes that makes it okay.

Kuroko doesn’t eat like a pig. He eats like a bird, all delicate and dainty, and his laugh sounds good to Aomine’s ears, probably because it’s such a rare thing to hear, soft and affectionate, almost intimate.

“I don’t know what you think about me,” Kuroko says, setting his pen to let Aomine know he means business, “but I consider you to be a very special person. Actually,” he amends, staring her straight in the eye the way he always does when he’s about to say something mushy and sentimental, “you’re the most important person in my life.”

“Oh,” says Aomine, unable to look at him after that, and kind of wishing she could be as honest and eloquent as he is. “Um.”

He’s right, really. She hasn’t told him how she feels, even though she was the one to initiate the change in their relationship, by asking him, “So, like, d’you wanna try making out and stuff?”

She wants to tell him how much he means to her, but the words refuse to come. Momoi says it’s because she’s being a tsundere, but that’s just stupid.

Aomine tries again. She should say thank you, or at least give him a compliment, but what eventually emerges from her mouth is, “You study good.”

“I see,” says Kuroko, lips curving in amusement. “Thank you very much.”

“And you’re better at shooting hoops now,” Aomine continues, “but still nowhere near as awesome as me.” There’s more she’d like to say, but she can’t seem to make it sound like she’s expressing her affection, so she goes, “Oh, screw it,” and yanks him in for a kiss.

If she can’t tell Kuroko how she feels, then she’s simply going to have to show him.

~~

**[Midorima/Kuroko, first kiss]**

Everyone has bad habits. Some people crack their knuckles, while others take their coffee with too much sugar. Kuroko’s is popping up out of nowhere and scaring people half to death, which is how he greets Midorima one afternoon, and it’s like he’s stepped out of a portal from another dimension, the way he randomly appears by Midorima’s side.

“Hello,” says Kuroko.

A few seconds later, once he’s managed to calm down his breathing and his heart rate, Midorima pretends he wasn’t caught off guard at all, that this is simply a regular occurrence for him (which is it, really, considering that they’re on the same team and that they both walk the same way home). “What is it?” 

“I thought I’d give you this.” 

Kuroko pulls a Physics textbook out of his bag (it’s large and heavy, as most science guides tend to be) and holds it out to Midorima, who stares back at him in annoyance.

“I already own one,” says Midorima, “and it’s exactly the same as yours. Therefore, I have no use for it.”

Kuroko shakes his head. “Open the section that’s been book marked,” he instructs. 

Midorima hesitates, wondering if Kuroko is making fun of him, if something nasty and horrible is going to leap out at him from between the pages, but he remembers it wouldn’t really be Kuroko’s style. His sense of humour is darker and more surreal, and besides, practical jokes are more Aomine’s forte.

Against his better judgement, he does as Kuroko asks. What he sees inside, to his surprise, is a carefully pressed four-leaf clover.

“I found it the other day,” Kuroko explains, “and I thought of you. I wasn’t sure if it would count as a lucky item or not, but I do know they’re supposed to bring good fortune. That’s why I decided you should have it.”

It’s one of the better gifts Midorima has received, since everyone tends to get him practical things for Christmas and his birthday (probably because he’s a practical sort of person), with the exception of Kise, of course, who gives him presents that are completely inappropriate and unwanted, like photo collections or kitty ears. 

“That’s very...” Midorima pauses, at a loss for words, which is unusual, because he prides himself on his eloquence, but then again, he’s not used to being sincere, so he ends his sentence with, “wise of you.”

Kuroko smiles, soft and small, and Midorima’s face suddenly feels warm, which he tells himself is just the heat, even though he’s wearing a long coat over his uniform. 

“It’s generally considered polite,” says Kuroko, “to respond with a simple ‘thank you’ in these situations.”

“I know that,” Midorima snaps, because it’s easier for him to get angry than it is to express his gratitude. “Do I look stupid in your eyes?”

“No,” Kuroko replies patiently. “You look like an honour student, and since you get some of the highest grades in our year, I suppose that also happens to actually make you one. But the way I see it,” he continues, “you look like a very kind and gentle person. You’re the wise one here, Midorima-kun. Not me.”

Midorima goes even more tongue-tied at that, and because he can’t say anything, honest or otherwise, he does something very uncharacteristic and bends down to touch his lips to Kuroko’s catching the fleeting taste of vanilla before he pulls away, adjusting his glasses and scowling to cover his embarrassment.

“There,” he says. “You’ve got your thank you.” Kuroko stares up at him, wide-eyed, and it makes Midorima uncomfortable, so he turns his back with a huff. “Well?” Midorima adds, impatient. “Are you walking back with me or not?”

“I would like that very much,” says Kuroko, falling into step with Midorima as he strides off.


End file.
